


Don't keep me in suspenders

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No end to Gene's peverse meanderings...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't keep me in suspenders

It looks like a fire bomb's gone off in a S+M factory, and Sam's really enjoying the discomfort of his entire squad!

It's varying degrees of squick, but there is definite squick.

Ray's moustache keeps twitching every time they have to pick up and log another piece of 'evidence'.

Chris hasn't been a shade lower than lobster since they walked into the building.

Annie's got a rather intrigued look on her face. Like she's disturbed, yet, curious.

Fanty is chuckling away to himself every time Jameson almost coughs up a lung in disgust and the lower level plods are all eyeing the merchandise with equal parts trepidation and 'I am a MAN, I will NOT show fear'

But, the pièce de résistance, the jam in his jelly roll, the absolute icing on his proverbial cake, is Gene!

Even if Sam didn't know what Gene liked to do with that talented tongue of his late at night, or that at weekends they could BOTH be called Dorothy for their extra curricular activities, he'd damn well know something fishy was up with the Guv after this case.

Arson in a sex shop.

When the case folder landed on his desk he almost crowed with unrepentant glee.

He's sick, he's twisted, he's a bloody sadistic evil son of a gun, but he's loving the look of pure heat on his lover's face. And, he's having trouble hiding it.

Gene's been having issues hiding the ever increasing bulge in his trousers for the entire time they've been there and Sam's never seen him hunch over so much in the whole of the time they've been playing tonsil hockey in the evidence lock up.

Being a man of the world, well actually being a man of 2006, it's not bothering Sam in the slightest. He's seen far worse, or is about to see far worse, will see far...Oh hell, he's seen it all. This is nothing, nothing except sweet retribution for all the times Gene's worn too tight trousers with no 'skivvies' as he loves to put it. Or all the times he's spent the entire drive to a crime scene fondling Sam in places that he hopes Ray and Chris never spot his hand.

Pay back is a bitch.

Although, having just watched that familiar sparkle enter his dirty minded Guv'nor's eyes, Sam's starting to feel a little uneasy. Maybe all this unresolved sexual tension isn't such a good idea. Especially seen as Gene's just picked up a set of handcuffs and a fireman's outfit and is trying, unsuccessfully, to pocket them without being spotted by anyone.

"Hand cuffs, Gene, really?"

Gene almost falls face first into a pile of semi-melted love-beads and is holding his chest like his heart's about to implode, "Jesus Tyler! Give a bloke a bloody heart attack why don't ya!"

There's no one remotely close enough to hear their exchange, so Sam forges on. He never could pass up the chance to needle Gene, in all ways, "Well, really, we have about a million sets of those things at the station, you pillock"

Gene's got that sneaky fucker look on his face and Sam's starting to wonder what his big pervy partner's got stewing in that warped imagination of his.

"Sammy boy, just 'cos I can truss you up like left over chrimbo bird doesn't mean I wanna. These won't leave such a mark will they!"

Shaking his head, Sam is acutely aware that for the next few nights, he'll end up playing robber to Gene's cop. Not really a problem, but hiding the cuff burns do tend to cause a logistical problem, "Hmmm, you might have a point, but you might wanna try and tuck it back 'cos Ray's starting to wonder if double ended dildos turn you on"

Grimacing and scanning the immediate area, Gene gets a very bad idea that just won't leave him alone and grabs the scruff of Sam's collar, "Best way ta deal with a problem is ta see to it straight away Sammy boy. No sense puttin' off 'til tomorrow what ya can do today is there!"

Sam's all but being dragged out the back door of the sodden, scorched sex shop and he's trying and failing, miserably, to get some purchase on anything that'll stop Gene doing what he know's he's probably powerless to prevent, "We can't, it's a fucking crime scene Gene. Can you imagine, forensics getting out here and finding traces of our very sticky DNA everywhere!"

"You'll just have to be a good lad and clean up after yaself then, won't ya!"

The tone in Gene's voice leaves no room for argument, and if Sam's brave enough to admit it, no room in his trousers either.

Finally yanking him outside, Gene throws Sam up against the nearest flat surface and starts licking his way down his throat.

Running his tongue up the back of Sam's ear, that tiny place where even stoic Sammy can't deny he's a dirty little scroat, Gene starts clawing at his belt buckle.

Finally admitting defeat, Sam gives in and goes to work on Gene's fly the best he can without actually being able to see it.

Managing to get his rough, hot hands inside Sam's trousers, Gene starts stroking Sam's growing erection. Sam gives up on the attempts at disrobing Gene and allows the waves of almost painful pleasure to wash over him.

Groaning, practically begging, Sam shifts slightly in Gene's grasp enough to loosen his grip and turn around to wiggle his arse at his horny partner.

Nothing like a little subtlety is there!

Gene doesn't need telling twice, except, leaning forward, he all but pants in Sam's ear, "It's gonna hurt, no lube"

"Oh the fucking irony, and don't care!"

Gritting his teeth against the inevitable burn, Sam braces his hands, palm flat against the jagged flint facing of the wall, "Please..."

Gene fumbles about inside his own trousers, frees his cock to the chill air and starts to, gently as he can, push inside.

"No, all in one"  
"Sammy.."  
"Please!"

Fighting the urge to roar, Gene sheaths himself fully inside Sam in one thrust then stills, just for a moment, to allow the smaller man to acclimatize, and then takes up a ragged rhythm that has them both keening and bucking their hips.

Not wanting his DI to go without, Gene closes his fist round his partners cock and begins to jerk him off to the same disjointed rhythm of their hips.

It doesn't take long, it never does, not when they're like this. Not when it's all they can do not to rut up against every available flat piece of furniture.

Sam's cock jumps in Gene's hand signalling the beginning of the end and Gene in turn braces himself for the stars and spots that always accompany the end of the dance.

Digging his nails into the rough hewn masonry, Sam spills himself against the wall and every muscle in his body tightens around Gene, throwing him bodily over the edge of the abyss.

It's only a few minutes later, when they've tucked themselves away and are trying to catch their breath, the door to the back alley opens and Chris pokes his head out, "You two find anything good out 'ere?"

"Nah, jus' looks like some little perv's been gettin' 'is jollys up against the wall"

Sam cocks one eyebrow, smirks and waits for Chris to go back inside before turning to Gene, "Little perv!"


End file.
